


Inquisitor Cadash: Weirdness Beacon

by scapegoat



Series: These Are The Stories You Oughta Tell [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adorable Inquisitor, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Assassins & Hitmen, Awkward Flirting, BAMF Vivienne, BAMF Warden (Dragon Age), Bigotry & Prejudice, Cassandra Pentaghast's Disgusted Noises, Dalish Elven Culture and Customs, Demon slaying, Demons & Spirits, Dragon hunting, Dragons, Drinking, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Dwarven Carta (Dragon Age), Everyone Has Issues, Fade Rifts, Families of Choice, Gambling, Getting to Know Each Other, Grey Wardens, Hawke & Varric Tethras Friendship, Hero Worship, Human Disaster Hawke, Inquisition Agents (Dragon Age), Iron Bull Has A Dragon Kink, Iron Bull being Iron Bull, Magic, Mental Health Issues, Mercenaries, Polyamory, Purple-Red Hawke, Spies & Secret Agents, Typical Hawke Antics, Varric Tethras' Nicknames
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 10:40:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12529472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scapegoat/pseuds/scapegoat
Summary: Going to “The Conclave” was a bad idea from the start but Cadash has done far more dangerous jobs than spying on a bunch of chatty robes arguing about a war as old as the dawn of time. Still, if The Carta was to keep making coin selling lyrium to the robes, they had to check out “the talks.”Becoming “The Herald Of Andraste” wasn’t something he was sold on from the get-go and it had nothing to do with being a dwarf. He was even less interested in being named “Inquisitor” after the move to Skyhold but if someone has to lead it might as well be the person calling the shots since Haven.And if he is (officially) going to call the shots, might as well make the most of things.





	Inquisitor Cadash: Weirdness Beacon

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age; I also make no money from writing.

Cadash chucks a dagger at map hanging over his bed. It took quite some effort to get an entire map of Thedas hanging over his bed but he managed. The dagger hits the middle of Vimmark Mountains with a thunk. The Inquisition soldiers gave him this lavish bedroom atop of Skyhold, which is surrounded by nothing but mountains. Whomever designed Skyhold did not have it with dwarves in mind. Why all the stairs? And ladders?  
  
Despite being from the surface, The Carta avoided mountains like the blight itself so he’s not used to this weather. If he thought Haven was bad, it’s nothing compared to this. _Plus_ , one of his windows won’t close so it’s always this blustering mountainous air blowing through. Good thing The Carta’s taught him to always dress in layers.  
  
Three days ago, the advisers decided to name him “Inquisitor.” They said it’s because he’d practically been leading them since he closed “The Breach.” While all that was true, it didn’t mean he wanted to. Much like his time with The Carta he does this shit because no one else will/can. Cassandra started this mess so if _anyone_ should’ve been Inquisitor, it should’ve been her. The two of them haven’t always seen eye to eye but they have a mutual level of respect for each other and in the end that’s really all that matters. She’s also the one person who hasn’t bullshitted or lied to his face. His “business” with The Carta makes people nervous; so much so that his “worshipers” praise him from afar. It’s nice having someone who knows snippets of his life and doesn’t fear him for it. Then again, Cassandra herself is downright terrifying so she clearly would not scare easily.  
  
There’s a knock on his door as he tosses another dagger at a random spot on the ceiling map. It hits Ferelden right in the R. “Come on in.” He’s not sure what this room was designed for but it was clearly for someone who did not want to be bothered.  
  
“I-Inquisitor?” Cadash was extremely uncomfortable having elven servants, was uncomfortable having people wait on him in general but one of his best friend is Dalish and according to Lavellan elves have been through more than enough. The Carta allows damn near anyone with enough grit to work with them on occasion; they’ve hired more qunari mercenaries than Cadash can count with both hands but to have a Dalish be a more ...regular acquaintance is a bit unheard of, at least compared to other Carta clans. Speaking of which, he wonders if his letters made contact.  
  
Anyway, the kitchen staff have gotten used to seeing him not only cook meals for himself but help them prepare big meals. After the first few times in Haven they stopped trying to get him out of there and welcomed the help. It’s also nice that the kitchen staff don’t talk about his “apparent connection” to Andraste or The Maker.  
  
The human woman hesitantly approaches the bed with a letter. “Your advisers have sent for you. They wish to speak to you about acquiring the arcanist.”  
  
He doesn’t know what an “arcanist” is but his advisers never want to leave him alone for long. Last time they did, he nearly died of blood loss after the escape from Haven. Plus, every time they – Leliana – lost track of him in Haven, he’d disappear for hours at a time. Not really his fault he’s not used to staying still.  
  
He thanks the messenger then makes his way down to the “War Room.” As always, his advisers: Leliana, Josephine, and Cullen are already there discussing things. Cassandra is mysteriously absent, however, and she’s been in Haven’s “War Room” every meeting. “Where is Cassandra?” The advisers look among themselves.  
  
“Training.” Is Leliana’s cryptic reply (but everything that damn woman says has some hidden message that a non spy wouldn’t be able to decipher), “as The Inquisition expands, we felt it was best she not interfere with your decision making. You are our leader and it would be confusing to see you two constantly butt heads.”  
  
“Uh, in case you had forgotten. Cassandra is very much apart of all my decision making whether she agrees or not. As ‘your leader’ it’s my decision we continue to butt heads.”  
  
The advisers look among themselves like they’ve perfected a secret language. “Inquisitor—” Leliana begins.  
  
“Nope.” Cadash shakes his head. “She’s the only one here who’d tells me things I don’t wanna hear and I’d rather that continue.” The advisers continue to look among one another, “ _now_ , what’s this about an arcanist? Whatever that is.”  
  
Josephine perks up almost immediately, “an arcanist is a specific type of crafts—person.” The Inquisitor nods slowly, “we’ve received word from an Arcanist Dagna who is offering her services to The Inquisition.”  
  
“Do we _need_ an arcanist?”  
  
Josephine nods. “I believe so, yes.”  
  
“Alright. Then welcome her aboard, if you please.”  
  
“Right away, Inquisitor.” She nods, no doubt already scribbling her reply on... that thing she’s always carrying around.  
  
Now it’s just Leliana and Cullen staring at each other. “Is that all?” They turn to him.  
  
“No.” Leliana replies. “We need to speak of plans to prevent that dark future you saw in Redcliffe.” Ah, yes. Redcliffe. Met Dorian. Got thrown into the future. Saw Bull and Vivienne, then Leliana die before his eyes. Recruited the mages into The Inquisition (a decision that made Cullen’s curly hair stand on end). He could only imagine what shit he would’ve went through if he sought out the templars. Templars were always bitchy customers for lyrium sales, so he figured mages were a safer bet. Besides, if the templars were anything like Cullen he wanted them as far away from him as possible. _Also_ , the mages were kinda being sold to a crazy but well-meaning magister and only a complete asshole would ignore that. Cadash may be an asshole but not a _complete_ asshole.  
  
“Well...” Josephine looks up from her writing thing, “we’ve received invites to The Winter Palace. Absolutely _everyone_ who is everyone will be in attendance. It is the perfect opportunity for an assassination.”  
  
“Nah. Quiet parties are better, not a lot of people to run around and cause a panic.” The advisers stare at him. “Sorry. Continue.”  
  
“R-Right.” Josephine clears her throat. “It should be the best place to speak with Empress Celene.”  
  
“Got it. We’ll, uh, put a pin in that? Travel around Orlais a bit, learn more about the situation.”  
  
“That probably would be for the best but as we are attempting to prevent an assassination, we should not dally too long.”  
  
“Understood. Now if that is all, I’ll... just not be here.” Nodding, he exits the War Room.  
  
Cullen sighs, massaging his temples. “Maker’s breath, he will not make this easy on us.”  
  
Leliana chuckles, “of course he won’t, where would the fun in that be?”  
  
⚙⚙  
  
During his “crowning,” Varric approached him and the advisers about “a friend” who dealt with Corypheus in the past. Leliana had suspicions – as a spy when does she not. Cassandra also had suspicions but she said she’d wait until proof to throttle Varric.  
  
For someone as long-winded as Varric, to get a simple letter that says _meet me at the battlements_ is concerning.  
  
As he’s walking – he’s still not used to Skyhold yet and the place is basically a shithole, he notices several guards crowding the main gate (or what he _believes_ is the main gate). He approaches as they’re discussing something. “Gentlemen!” They startle then turn to salute him. The Inquisition has a serious shortage of dwarves so _everyone_ knows he’s The Inquisitor, and that’s probably only because everyone knows he’s not Varric.  
  
“Inquisitor!” They salute in unison.  
  
“What’s the— _Oli_?” The guards do a double take. Cadash blinks as Lavellan in the flesh, just as bruised and banged up as he left him, grins. The main reason The Carta kept him around as long as they have was because he was one hell of a mage and as most already know, dwarves cannot use magic. Having a mage on hand helps, especially with some of the shit they do. (“They” being The Carta.)  
  
“Gabe!” The guards sidestep allowing the elf to pick Cadsah up and hug him. The guards watch in awe, then the elf puts him down and kneels to his level. “Lantos told me where you were. Well, he told me where you _were_ then that place blew up and it took me a while to find where you moved to.”  
  
“Is Lantos safe?”  
  
“Yeah. He’s been keeping tabs on The Dasher ever since he called off the hit.”  
  
“Wasn’t paying that sodding asshole off when I nearly got blown up. Wait, not even _nearly_ I did get blown up!”  
  
“Plus he thinks you stole the lyrium.”  
  
“ _That too._ Asshole. He’s been looking for reasons to get rid of me. Like I’d steal an entire shipment of lyrium.” Cadash rolls his eyes.  
  
“You’d just take bits no one would notice.”  
  
“ _Exactly_!”  
  
“Don’t see how getting your fancy new friends to send word to ambassadors was supposed to help.”  
  
“Got him to shut up, didn’t it? I was tempted to send a counter hit to his hit but the last thing I need is to start another war with him.”  
  
“‘Another?’”  
  
“Don’t worry about it. What have you been up to since the big boom?”  
  
“I was with Lantos until he told me to check up on you. Said a friendly face might help you out.”  
  
“Well, he was right about that.” Cadash jerks his head behind him. “Come on, you can see my fancy room.” The guards look like they want to protest but they just stand there slack-jawed as Cadash and Lavellan walk through the main gates. “ _Ah_! Almost forgot. Need to meet someone on the battlements. You can come with me.”  
  
“Sure.” Lavellan shrugs, “it’ll be fun to see you at work ‘inquisiting.’”  
  
“Don’t think that’s a word but let’s go.”  
  
⚙⚙  
  
_The Inquisitor._ Honestly, Varric saw this decision coming a mile away. Even if no one else did. Ignoring the fact that the kid was (and still is) immensely uncomfortable being seen as the messenger of a god he doesn’t believe in, he’s been leading The Inquisition from day one.  
  
Day four – he was unconscious the first three days after sealing The Breach. The first time.  
  
After the “inspirational” speech, Varric sent word to Hawke about Corypheus. Saw the bastard in the distance and doesn’t know any other nine foot tall floating, gloating darkspawn in Thedas. Thing is – he was there when Hawke plunged an arrow from her fancy bow into the asshole’s split skull. That was after Varric lit Corypheus up with arrows from Bianca and Isabela stabbed him multiple times with her daggers. Admittedly, Varric hadn’t been keeping Hawke as informed about The Inquisition as he’d like but Hawke never stayed in the same place too long. Of course, that does have a tendency to happen when one is on the run.  
  
For Hawke to just _show up_ without word was definitely a Hawke thing to do. Once she popped up with Fenris in tow, he sent a hastily written message to The Inquisitor to meet him in the battlements and derailed every guard who attempted their scheduled patrol. If anyone knew Hawke was here before The Inquisitor found out, they’d tell Cassandra and—well, then he’d be dead. And as someone fond of living, that wouldn’t be a great outcome.  
  
Hawke is swinging her legs as she sits on the ledge, “relax, would you? So you lied to a templar—”  
  
“ _Seeker_ , not a templar.”  
  
Hawke waves him off, “doesn’t matter. We’ve lied to templars, in their face, several times. What makes this shiny non-templar templar so special?”  
  
“She kinda had the idea to form The Inquisition? Plus, she’s scary and she already pretty much kidnapped me and held me at your manor then forced me to tell your story.”  
  
“I bet you told the story of your own volition.”  
  
“Okay, I did but I did get kidnapped. Then she stabbed my book!”  
  
Fenris hums, “if I hadn’t known you better I’d say you were quite fond of this shiny non-templar.”  
  
“Ah but you _do_ know me better, Elf.” Both Fenris and Hawke smirk at him. Ugh. They somehow got _worse_. This is what happens when Varric isn’t around. “Weren’t you busy leaving a trail of slaver corpses around The Free Marches?”  
  
“You didn’t think I’d kill slavers without Hawke, did you?”  
  
“Ah yes, killing slavers is what helped you two bond after all. How silly of me to think otherwise.” With a sigh, Varric shakes his head. “What about everyone else? Any updates since we last spoke?”  
  
“Nope. Well, Isabela left with Zevran on her fancy new boat to find The Hero Of Ferelden. Sorry, meet up with The Hero Of Ferelden.”  
  
Right. Isabela did meet – then subsequently sleep with – The Hero Of Ferelden. Hm. He should talk to Nightingale about The Hero Of Ferelden. Apparently, they traveled together too. And also slept together. Huh. Small world.  
  
“Hey.” Hawke hops off the ledge, “someone’s coming.”  
  
Inquisitor Cadash isn’t alone when he treks up the battlements. There’s an elf Varric’s never seen before walking with him; an elf he’s very familiar with by the looks of things. It’s so damn good having another dwarf to talk to. Spending all the damn time looking up to talk to people takes its toll on the neck. The Inquisition has tons of elves and, somehow, twice as many humans but the amount of dwarves are few and far between. They aren’t even hired muscle. In fact, other than both himself and The Inquisitor, Varric’s only counted three other dwarves: Scout Harding, Rocky (of Bull’s Chargers), and the new quartermaster’s assistant, Pierre. That’s a total of _five_ dwarves among thousands of devoted Andrastians both elven and human. Well, he kinda feels for Bull because he’s the sole qunari in the rather large group. ~~Kinda being the key word, after the shit they pulled in Kirkwall it’s a bit hard to feel sorry for qunari.~~  
  
Now it looks like they’re gonna add a sole Dalish as well.  
  
“Inquisitor! So glad you could make it. May I present Fenris and Hawke, The Champion Of Kirkwall.”  
  
Hawke groans. “You know I didn’t like being called that in Kirkwall—”  
  
“And you don’t like it now. Never will like it. Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna keep introducing you as that.”  
  
Hawke frowns but shakes Cadash’s hand. “Sure you don’t want me calling you _Inquisitor_ all the time so what do you wanna be called?”  
  
“Cadash is fine.”  
  
“Nice meeting you Cadash, who is your Dalish friend?”  
  
“Lavellan.” Hawke shakes his hand next. “Worked in The Carta with me.”  
  
“I’m sorry. You... since when do non dwarves work in The Carta?”  
  
Cadash shrugs, “we always hire on mages who need to make some coin. Kid’s quick not only with the spells but with his fists. Why wouldn’t we keep him on?”  
  
“But if you’re a mage, you’d be the Keeper’s first... would you not? Are you allowed to just leave?”  
  
“And did you leave your clan to pursue the ancient ways of your people through forbidden magic?” Hawke looks at Fenris. “It’s worth asking.”  
  
“Uh, well. Hm. No... ordinarily a first doesn’t just _leave_ and, um, no I’m not pursing anything least of all any ancient ways.” Both Hawke and Fenris sigh in relief at that. “I left my clan because I couldn’t make it through my vallaslin ceremony.” Hawke, Fenris and Varric stare at him. “Oh, I thought since...” He shakes his head, “doesn’t matter. When we come of age, we have a ceremony. We cleanse our bodies then our souls, afterward the Keeper applies the vallaslin and it’s painful as hell but we’re supposed to stay still and quiet. I, uh, didn’t.” Four pairs of eyes cut to his face, “there was supposed to be more. My entire face is supposed to be covered in branches but I couldn’t take it anymore and Keeper Deshanna stopped.”  
  
“Honestly, if you hadn’t told us that we never would’ve guessed your vallaslin was half finished.” Hawke says.  
  
“Yeah. I know. I’ve seen people with less but I wanted my face to completely honor Falon’Din instead I have this half-ass vallaslin.” He sighs, “and that was the third time she tried. I figured I didn’t deserve a fourth chance and left.”  
  
“To join The Carta?”  
  
“It was either that or die? The Carta were the only people even willing to speak to me. Them and mercenaries.”  
  
“Well, I’m hoping you left your clan _before_ this Conclave bullshit.”  
  
“Oh, that was before. I spent a few months in The Carta and nearly went to The Conclave.” Hawke whistles, “yeah, dodged a hell of a lot daggers on that.”  
  
“Right! Speaking of that: Corypheus whom we killed and saw die, is somehow not dead? This sounds like a shit plot from one of your novels, Varric.”  
  
“I resent that, Hawke. I never – in a million years – would’ve thought up a villain as cliché as Corypheus. Although the died but not died thing is definitely something I’ve done in the past.” Hawke shakes her head at him. “What? Before this little experience it was something I drummed up that I never would’ve thought would happen in real life! Saw our nine foot tall friend with a bunch of templars and Samson, if you can believe it.”  
  
Hawke glances at Fenris who sighs. “Samson was that former templar who was addicted to lyrium. He ‘helped’ you get that boy, Feynriel, from slavers?” She shakes her head. “He told you where I was being held when templars snuck up on me in Darktown?”  
  
“I remember being pissed at that possibly still possessed former templar for agreeing with that shit plan but I do not remember anyone named Samson.”  
  
“Doesn’t matter.” Varric interrupts. “He seems to have a new addiction: _red_ lyrium.”  
  
“The shit that drove your brother nuts _and_ turned Meredith into a statue? There’s _more_?” Varric nods, “you’d think people would steer clear of the stuff after seeing or even hearing about what happened.”  
  
“Yeah, well. They didn’t. There is a whole lot more. We broke up a few pieces around Ferelden but I doubt we made a substantial dent in it. I mean, we still have red templars running around.”  
  
“ _Red_ templars? Oh, this is rich. Dealing with one batshit red templar was bad and now they’ve multiplied? Through Ferelden to boot. Not like they dealt with a damn blight over a decade ago. You know, it took all of us _plus additional help_ to bring just Meredith down. How are we gonna stop multiple red templars?”  
  
“We’re bigger than just a handful of people. I know numbers don’t always matter – I mean the templars outnumbered us ten to one and we still won.”  
  
“You forget Meredith brought statues to life?”  
  
“No, I couldn’t forget that. Believe me, I’ve tried. But... if there is a silver lining, none of these templars seem to have that particular ability. Thank the Maker for small mercies, right?” Hawke and Fenris exchange a glance. “You told me to keep you informed, right?”  
  
“You could’ve before everything went tits up, Tethras.”  
  
“That’s the best time to let you know what’s going on!”  
  
Hawke slowly shakes her head. “So, we’re kicking Corypheus’ ass again but making sure he stays dead this time. I can deal with that. Can you?” Fenris nods. “Good. You didn’t get to go at him the first time and maybe that’s where we went wrong.”  
  
“If anything, that’ll be just one thing that went wrong with that.”  
  
“Yes, the mission was a clusterfuck _but_ I did get a fancy bow out of it.”  
  
“Didn’t you tell me Corypheus could control Grey Wardens?” Fenris asks. “You said Anders even turned on you briefly.”  
  
“Forgot about that.” Varric blinks. “Ah shit, we need to keep an eye on Hero so we don’t deal with more possessed Grey Wardens. Who knows what Corypheus could do to him.” A pause, “well, we _know_ but it’s best we don’t experience it.”  
  
⚙⚙  
  
It really surprised no one – least of all Cadash – that when Cassandra found out the first thing she did was go after Varric. In fact, he’s sure she even said she’d go after him. The only thing surprising was the three hours it took for her to not only find about Hawke and Fenris’ arrival at Skyhold but to track Varric down – then choke him.  
  
Would she have killed him? Cadash couldn’t be certain but The Inquisition can’t afford to lose a dwarf.  
  
Cadash tries to spend equal amounts of time with the individuals who formed his inner circle but all this talk of “The Maker” and “Heralding” make it difficult to. Plus, no one seems to have accepted the fact that he’s just a really unlucky fella put in a shit situation.  
  
His entire life is a series of shit situations but this Conclave bullshit really took the cake. Fortunately, the presence of a legend takes some pressure of Cadash and he doesn’t have to answer every question the advisers throw his way. At least until Hawke stops being an interesting subject to dissect. This is also a good time to give Lavellan a tour of Skyhold.  
  
The same kid who never saw a human settlement up close prior to dealing with The Carta. His clan was unusual compared to most Dalish clans because they actually dealt with humans frequently. Unfortunately, Lavellan himself has little to no experience with humans because he was usually conveniently away during trades. They avoid everyone and just venture around with the last stop being The Inquisitor’s Room.  
  
“You... you sleep here!?”  
  
“Yup.” The one good thing about this obnoxious room is that with so many damn stairs no one seems to want to venture up them. Plus, his equally obnoxious bed is a damn sight better than the rolls he slept on in The Carta. _Also_ , if there is something good about being Inquisitor it’s that no one wants to “bother him.” Even that woman who came up here earlier seemed hesitant. Apparently, speaking with him directly is a waste of time and could make them lose favor with their god or whatever. Cadash isn’t sure but if idiots aren’t asking him to give them blessings every two seconds like they were in Haven, no harm no foul.  
  
Lavellan whistles. “I suppose any good leader needs a fortress, right?”  
  
“Hey.” Cadash flops back on the bed. “You should stay up here with me.”  
  
“And give your subjects something to gossip about?” Lavellan approaches the bed then sits on the edge of it. “You’re sweet on someone, aren’t you?”  
  
Cadash bolts instantly, “huh?”  
  
“Cut the shit, Gabe, I know you. There’s someone here you have your eye on. What’s his name?”  
  
Damn perceptive elf. Why did Lantos teach the kid all his tricks? He was already smart to start with. Cadash sighs heavily. “Dorian. _But_ don’t go making shit weird for me. I already got trapped in a dark future with the guy and it took every ounce of willpower I could muster to not look on the bright side of said dark future.”  
  
“Must be quite the looker.”  
  
“Half the inner circle is. I mean, you want to see beauty? Look for Vivienne. Come to think of it, not only is she beautiful but the mages fear and respect the hell out of her so she’s literally the only person qualified to oversee them. She could give you some pointers if you want.”  
  
“I could always use pointers. Anyone I should avoid?”  
  
“Cullen: Guy used to be a templar so he’s weird about mages. Magic in general.” Cadash rubs at his chin. He’s starting to get some stubble. If Lantos could see him now. “You might wanna avoid Sera too. She’s a bit... _iffy_ about elves? Other elves.” Cadash shrugs. “Magic too.” Lavellan nods. “Put your suspicious satchel and staff down then I’ll subtly point everyone out to you.”  
  
“My suspicious satchel has some of your shit Lantos wanted me to give you.”  
  
“That fucker.” Cadash sighs, “he’s getting a strongly worded letter, let me tell you.”  
  
⚙⚙  
  
The Inquisition is full of spies, Cadash would know – he’s one of them. Bull is one of the best; even if there weren’t bets going around wondering if he’s better than Leliana. It’s no surprise he notices them first. Lavellan’s never seen a qunari up close before, they haven’t done business with them since the kid joined up, so he’s simply gaping at either Bull’s sheer height or his easygoing personality.  
  
Lantos used to tell _him_ he was too carefree for a spy so he could only imagine what he’d say about Bull.  
  
The only reason Cadash is so damn carefree is he’s damn good. What’s the point in being a broody spy? ~~Plus, The Inquisition has broody spies in spades.~~  
  
Cadash has taken to calling Lavellan “Kid” despite the fact they’re the same age with mere months of a difference in his favor but Lavellan’s far more innocent than anyone Cadash’s ever met. Considering he spent nearly a year with a band of criminals, one wouldn’t think he’d keep said innocence.  
  
If Cadash didn’t know any better, and he hopes to The Stone he does, Bull’s normally charming personality of a nine ups to a twelve in less than a minute of talking to Lavellan. More like talking _at him_ because Lavellan’s only responses so far are nods and head shakes. Hmm... Bull _did_ say something about about redheads, didn’t he? Cadash takes a quick peek at Lavellan’s shimmery bright red hair (even brighter than Leliana’s flaming orange hair).  
  
Yeah, no. _Nope_. He’s not doing this. Lantos did this for him all the time when he first “joined” The Carta and it’s only fair he do the same for Lavellan. ~~Besides, Bull could literally break the kid in half.~~ “Right. Later, Bull. Let’s go.” He waves to Bull then all but pulls Lavellan by his jacket.  
  
Lavellan’s eyes are still wide when they’re more than a reasonably safe distance away from the tavern. “Gabe. Did you see him? He was _huge_! I’ve seen statues of our Creators smaller than him.”  
  
“He’s a qunari, they generally run around that size.” Lavellan glances down at him. “What? I get you’ve never seen one before so it’s surprising. I was like that too when I first saw one up close but once you’ve seen three or four with their pants around their ankles their height loses some of its awe.”  
  
Lavellan snorts, “does it though?”  
  
Cadash pauses then barks a laugh. “ _Ha_! You little shit.”  
  
“So~” Cadash glances up at him – at his cheeky grin, “where’s the Dorian fella?” Fucking hell. Cadash’s glare only serves to widen Lavellan’s grin.  
  
“I swear to my ancestors if you make that face or a smartass comment—”  
  
Lavellan holds up his left hand, “I swear on the statue of Ghilan’nain.” Cadash narrows his eyes, “she’s the mother of all halla, which are super sacred to us.”  
  
“Ah, there you are, Darling.” Cadash turns to Vivienne walking behind several soldiers carrying a rather large chair. “We need to talk throne designs. Has Josephine spoken to you about that yet?”  
  
“My... _throne_?”  
  
“I guess that means she hasn’t. Do have a word with her, my dear, I’d like for us to be on the same page.” She gives Lavellan a scrutinizing gaze. “You. Come with me.”  
  
“Uh—”  
  
“Don’t worry, Inquisitor. You put me in charge of The Inquisition’s mages. I’m simply seeing where this one stands.” Vivienne had... concerns about letting the mages roam around somewhat freely and as a mage, Cadash figures she knows what she’s talking about. Plus, with the whole getting thrust into the future thing anyone – even a mage, perhaps _especially a mage_ – would be cautious. Yes, she’s only one incredible woman but if the soldiers can look at Cullen like he’s a paragon come back to life then why can’t Vivienne be the “Cullen” for the mages? They won’t trust Dorian because he’s from Tevinter and Solas... is Solas, Vivienne is the obvious choice. She’s Circle trained and a complete well-known badass. Vivienne whips the mages into shape, Cullen has the soldiers, and Leliana is in charge of the spies.  
  
“Do try to bring him back in one piece?”  
  
“That all depends on him, my dear.”  
  
⚙⚙  
  
“Brought in another mage here, yeah? Didn’t grab enough of ‘em in Redcliffe?”  
  
“Hello, Sera, and no this mage is different.”  
  
“All the robes look the same to me.”  
  
“True but this one never had a robe. He’s Carta too.”  
  
“Carta grows mages now too?”  
  
“Only every other year.”  
  
Sera snorts a laugh, “oh, hey, while I got ya I need a favor.”  
  
“Do we get to shoot someone in the ass?”  
  
“Dunno. But the day’s still young. Need ya to talk to your big people at the big table to help some little friends.”  
  
“Okay...?”  
  
“Okay. That’s it.” She shrugs.  
  
“Is there a location?”  
  
“Hm? Oh, yeah. I’ll write it down and give it to ya.”  
  
“Pleasure talking to you, as always.”  
  
“Back at ya.” Sera walks off and starts whistling.  
  
“You are worried about him.”  
  
“Paragon Aeducan, Cole, give a guy a warning next time!”  
  
Cole looks completely unperturbed by the outburst, as usual. Hm. He’s wondering if Cole waited for Sera to leave or was it just a coincidence. No, Cole doesn’t do coincidences; at least, none Cadash could remember off the top of his head. “He doesn’t want you to worry.”  
  
“What the— _he_? Is the _he_ you’re referring to Lantos or Lavellan?”  
  
“Both.”  
  
“Ah. How wonderful. Thanks, Cole.” He bids Cole goodbye then heads to the library. If Lantos is keeping tabs on The Dasher, again, it’s possible he went to one of their safe houses, again. He must’ve parted ways with Lavellan so The Dasher’s goons would have a harder time finding them; it’s a strategy they’ve utilized countless times and Cadash is shocked it took him this long to realize it. Once Cadash gets to the library, he gets started on writing Lantos a letter.  
  
“Ah, Inquisitor. I had no idea you counted a Dalish elf among your Carta brethren.”  
  
“Nothing gets past you, Solas.” Solas and Sera have more common than either of them realize and if someone ever mentioned it to them, it could start a war bigger than the mage-templar tiff. “Did you see for yourself or has the gossip started?”  
  
“Madame De Fer approached me with your friend, she said even a hedge mage could be of some use and wanted to know how familiar I was with Dalish magic.”  
  
“How familiar are you?”  
  
“Not as familiar as she hoped.”  
  
“Where’d she take the kid?”  
  
“I did not stay to find out. Once she deemed I was no use to her she and her templars shooed me.”  
  
“Templars? Right. If she’s working magic, she’s gonna have templars.” Given the amount of mages they received from Redcliffe, it’s not even a 10:1 ratio of mages to templars. There are plenty of soldiers but Cullen only brought a handful of (“former?”) templars from Kirkwall. The mages have taken it upon themselves (most likely due to Vivienne) to keep an eye on their own, which is probably the best solution for all parties involved. “Hey, how does one become a Circle mage?”  
  
“I have no idea. I mean, I’ve heard what happens from the mages around here but I don’t know personally. However, with the Circles all but gone you don’t have to worry about anyone putting your friend in a Circle. Speaking of which, what do you plan on doing with the mages once they are no longer useful?”  
  
“The mages will always be useful. I spoke to Vivienne and we felt it was best we bring The Circles back—” Solas opens his mouth, “ _but_ we’re also gonna see if we can get mages into The Chantry.”  
  
“That is disappointing, Inquisitor.”  
  
“Yeah, had a feeling you’d say that.” Cadash sighs, “look. I respect the hell out of you but not every hedge mage is you. I mean, you heard about Redcliffe.” Solas frowns. Well, his normal disposition is frowning but his frown increases a bit. “Having said that, nothing is finalized. If you have options, I’m all ears.”  
  
“I see. Thank you, Inquisitor.”  
  
“It’s what I’m here for. That and closing the fade rifts.”  
  
“I swear on that shitty book Varric wrote about me, Skyhold is fucking huge!” Hawke unceremoniously flops into the empty seat beside him. “Ah.” She squints up at Solas, “Chuckles.” Solas stares right back at her. Right. She’s Varric’s best friend so it’s possible they’d have the whole nickname conversation. Hmmm, he’ll have to ask her about his nickname.  
  
“The Champion Of Kirkwall.” Hawke grimaces. “I will take my leave, Inquisitor.”  
  
“Bye, Chuckles!” Hawke waves as Solas leaves. “That Mother Giselle had quite the conversation with me.”  
  
“What she talk to you about?”  
  
“Nope. Don’t wanna repeat it.” She shakes her head, letting out a full body shudder. “Varric took Fenris and I’m bored out of my mind. Where did your cute friend disappear to?”  
  
“Vivienne took him. She wants to measure his magic or some shit.”  
  
“My old man used to tell me I was ridiculously sensitive to magic. I mean, what did he expect? Both The Hawke family and The Amell family were full of mages. My aunt on my mom’s side had five kids – all mages.”  
  
Cadash narrows his eyes at the brunette, “are you telling me you’re a mage?”  
  
“No. I’m saying I’m sensitive to magic. Can I cast spells? Who knows. Never tried. My brother tried once and it literally blew up in his face.”  
  
“Does Varric know about this?”  
  
“Varric knows damn near everything about my business; even the stuff I don’t tell him. Did you read his book? The book about me? He told the story of how Fen and I got together all wrong.”  
  
“Sorry. Hadn’t read the book.”  
  
“Please don’t apologize. That’s wonderful news. Random guards have pulled me aside and asked if I truly fought an Arishok in single combat.”  
  
“Did you?”  
  
“Yeah, I did but I couldn’t move for days afterwards. Nowhere nears as ‘graceful’ as Varric wrote either. Then they ask me all sorts of other stupid shit from Varric’s book.” She sighs, slumping back in the chair. “Bet he’s writing about you and your little group too.”  
  
“You think so?”  
  
“I know Varric. He’s taken a liking to you and that can only mean you’re the star of his next book.”  
  
“Well, if he is writing about me I hope he writes me accurately.”  
  
“Meh. Depends on his mood. Never saw a single page of _The Tale Of The Champion_ until Fenris saw the book at a bookstand in Rivain.”  
  
“You were in Rivain?”  
  
“After the shit that went wrong in Kirkwall, we split up. There were talks of Exalted Marches, anti-Chantry uprisings, people wanting to kill Anders, people wanting to kill _me_ for not killing Anders. There were a lot of things. We split up but Isabela told us to come to Rivain. Zevran wanted us to go to Antiva but by the time we left Rivain we got the letter from Varric. Once we wrap things up here, we’ll head to Antiva. Then Tevinter.”  
  
“Why Tevinter?”  
  
“It’s where Fenris is from. Ah, that reminds me. Gotta take him to Lothering since we’re sorta kinda near Ferelden.”  
  
“How’d you two even get together? You said Varric told it all wrong.”  
  
Hawke grimaces, “honestly, it’s a bit pathetic on my end. Not really the ‘pining’ type. I’m more the bury my misery with cheap ale and shit-talking. To take my mind off... _everything_ , I kinda threw myself headfirst into... everything.” She clears her throat. “We, uh, slept together at a really awkward time and he wasn’t comfortable with things so we kinda stopped before we really started. We never spoke about it and sorta carried on as usual but _everyone_ knew I carried a torch for the guy. Even the Blooming Rose employees kept the male elves away from me. Anders – whom I hadn’t realized was basically obsessed with me by this point – kinda taunted Fenris every chance he got. I’m really surprised he hadn’t punched the damn guy out now that I think back on it. I’m even more surprised _I_ hadn’t punched him. Anyway, three years passed. Yes, _three years_. Loads of crazy shit happened. After a few weeks of not seeing Fenris— _bam_ , he springs some news about his supposed sister and asks me to help. I help because I discovered since coming to Kirkwall, I have a bit of trouble saying _no_ to certain things. I’ll... talk more about that later. Anyway—” She pauses then tilts her head to the right, “did you know Fenris was a former slave?”  
  
“I know now.”  
  
“Right. So, he was tricked into meeting his former master by his sister.” Cadash whistles. “Yeah. After the asshole has the gall to try to _bargain_ with me to take Fenris without a fight, _we fight_. Fenris kills him with ease, then his traitorous sister—”  
  
“Wait, you let the guy kill his sister?”  
  
“At that point, I had no living family members to speak of except my deadbeat uncle and his estranged daughter. My uncle sold me out over a dozen times to pay off debts. I ended up killing everyone who he ever owed money to. Family was hella expendable.”  
  
“Fair point.”  
  
“We talked a lot after that happened. Then we officially started dating.”  
  
“Kinda surprised you got together after a talk.”  
  
“It was one hell of a talk. Plus, hello? Torch? Carrying? Nice little side benefit of the talk was knowing I wasn’t the only one who carried a torch for over three years. Fenris made me feel less lonely and considering I watched and held both my siblings and my mother in my arms as they died, I constantly felt lonely.”  
  
“ _Damn_. I know how if feels to hold the lifeless body of a family member. My cousin took an arrow to the eye and heart simultaneously.”  
  
“Well, if we’re comparing notes my brother got squished by an ogre, my sister died by my hand because she got the taint from The Deep Roads, and my mom? My mom was hacked to pieces by a necromancing blood mage trying to recreate his dead wife. Her severed head was the final piece of the puzzle consisting of several dead women who turned up missing in Kirkwall for the past four or so years. The ‘ritual’ kept mom alive and once I killed the prick who violated her and the other women’s bodies, she died in my arms but not before telling me how proud she was of me.”  
  
“Oh my fuck, Hawke. How in the name of all my ancestors are you so upbeat?”  
  
“I drink frequently. Also? I’m kind of an asshole. Not even _kind of_ ; I am a genuine, one-hundred percent, purebred asshole straight from Ferelden. Dark shit? I just laugh about it. _Usually_ , I don’t laugh as it’s happening or directly after.”  
  
“Usually?” Cadash repeats.  
  
“I _may have_ cracked a joke about the Viscount’s dead son as his father held his dead body?” Cadash grimaces. “Yeah. Pissed Aveline off too. Well, ninety percent of what I did pissed Aveline off.”  
  
“Aveline?”  
  
“Right. I traveled Kirkwall with: Anders – the willingly possessed and somewhat manipulative mage that blew up the Chantry. Merrill – an adorable Dalish blood mage who was exiled from her clan for...” Hawke looks around, “ _reasons_. Isabela – a sultry pirate captain, now admiral and easily one of the greatest people you will ever meet. Fenris – my better half, whom you’ve met. Aveline – as I mentioned, the guard-captain and the biggest stick in the mud you’ll ever find. Sebastian – an actual prince and probably the most devout individual in Thedas. You already know and travel with Varric.”  
  
“How did your devout friend take your other friend blowing up the Chantry? I’m not Andrastian but I know Chantries are a big deal. People _cried_ when they first found out the Chantry denounced The Inquisition.”  
  
“Oh...” Hawke rubs the back of her neck, “in a sorta cliché villainous line, Sebastian swore he’d get revenge on Anders. He said he’d bring all of Starkhaven down on him. I’d say he’s full of it but Sebastian did spend three years looking for the people who murdered his family.” Hawke sighs, “I’m hoping someone talks him out of it because I adore Sebastian. I’d rather not die by his bow. Or kill him with mine.”  
  
“He’s a bowman too? Well, you’re not a bow _man_ but— _you know_.”  
  
“I’m versatile. I’ll use damn near anything I can get my hands on.” It’s the grin that gives her away. He really shouldn’t be surprised Hawke can fight dirty. _Does_ fight dirty. From what Varric told him, she (and by extension the rest of her now deceased family) ran from templars since... forever. Plus, given her size, it’s good to have options. Cadash isn’t an expert on humans (a lot of ‘em honestly look the same) but he knows Hawke is small compared to most of ‘em. It’s actually adorable picturing her fighting a qunari who is more than twice her size. It’s even cuter than she and Fenris are the same height. Elves generally run smaller than humans – Lavellan happens to be small for an elf because he’s shorter than Hawke. Being surrounded by people smaller than “average” is comforting to a dwarf.  
  
“Hey, this Dalish elf friend of yours. Any way to contact her? I think Lavellan can use another Dalish.”  
  
“Well, he’ll be the first in a while happy to see her but I think I can arrange something. Just so long as you don’t want Anders here.”  
  
“Great ancestors, _no_! I don’t need Cassandra to try and murder anyone else here for a while.”  
  
“Ooh, tell me about this Cassandra chick. Varric said she stabbed him in the book.”  
  
“Don’t you mean _back_?”  
  
Hawke shakes her head, “no.”  
  
⚙⚙  
  
“Ah! My favorite not so broody elf. What can I do for you?”  
  
Fenris takes the offered seat in front of Varric. “As good as it’s been catching up yesterday, I got the feeling you wanted to tell me something you didn’t want Hawke to know.”  
  
Varric sighs, pushing his chair back. “I, uh, got a letter from Blondie.”  
  
“It must be bad if telling me is the alternative to telling Hawke.”  
  
“We both know Hawke isn’t exactly the most forgiving person.”  
  
“I’m still surprised she let him live.”  
  
“I’m as surprised as you are. I mean, we all know he never hidden how he felt about her—or you.” Varric clears his throat, “but I digress. He’s been looking into Corypheus.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Fancy uniform or not, he’s still a Grey Warden. When Silk told us The Hero Of Ferelden was looking for a way to stop The Calling, he jumped at the chance. She saved his life once before, right? Why wouldn’t she be able to do it a second time?”  
  
“I’m sure she saved him more than just the one time but I understand your meaning. Has he had any success?”  
  
“Well, also according to Silk, The Hero Of Ferelden actually cured the taint in her mabari with a flower. Well, _she_ didn’t do it – a kennel master did. Unfortunately, he and his methods died at Ostagar so she doesn’t know exactly how to fix things. However, a lead is a lead... right?”  
  
“I suppose it is.”  
  
Varric stares at him. “You ever regret killing your sister?”  
  
“You regret killing your brother?”  
  
“Touché, Elf. Touché. If I had a tankard, I’d lift it to shitty siblings.” Clearing his throat, Varric rubs the back of his neck. “There is one other thing I wanted to talk to you about. Word around the battlements is, we’re heading to Halamashiral – The Winter Palace – to attend a fancy party but mostly to stop an assassination. There’s a good chance, The inquisition would want Hawke in attendance.”  
  
“And you want me to ask her? You remember Chateau Haine, correct?”  
  
Varric grimaces, “don’t remind me. Seriously, _don’t_. If I ever see Shivs again it’ll be too soon. But, this is different. Hawke’s important people and Orleasians already look down on Fereldens—”  
  
“What is it you are asking of me, exactly?”  
  
“I love Hawke like a non shitty sibling but her, uh, tactlessness – let’s call it – won’t go over well in The Winter Palace. So, what I’m asking is: just for one day can you get Hawke to be a bit less... Hawke? Ruffles will have my ass if anyone ruins this. The Inquisitor, Tiny, _me_ , Buttercup, _anyone_.”  
  
“Why will she have your ass?”  
  
“Call it seniority. Pardon the phrasing but a lot of these younger folks look up to me. I’m no Hawke but I’m looking out for everyone yet at the same time making sure we don’t all go mad by lightening the mood from time to time. We both know Hawke’ll set me up for joke after joke and I can’t resist a good opening. Once we start, the boring ordeal becomes a real party that everyone joins in and we’ll get kicked out for sure.”  
  
“If you want Hawke to be everything she isn’t, you’ll have to be everything you’re not.”  
  
Varric sighs, “I know. It’s bad enough I have to learn Orleasian etiquette. Ruffles sat us all down and _glared_. When you meet her you’ll see what I mean. Glaring just doesn’t suit her. I haven’t seen Hawke all morning and I’m not gonna be the one to break the news to her. She’s never been mad at you.”  
  
“She’s never been mad at you either.”  
  
“I know, and I don’t want that to change. You know how quick she can be with her daggers.” Fenris nods with a hum, “you know what wasn’t meant to...” Varric sighs, “forget it.”  
  
“Is it wrong for me to be impressed by Hawke’s athleticism and skill?”  
  
“ _Impressed_ , Fenris? Is that really the word you’d use?”  
  
“It’s _one_ word I’d use.”  
  
Varric shakes his head. That’s not a subject he’s gonna touch. “Hm. Tell you what. Let’s both tell Hawke together. That way she’s less likely to get pissed.”  
  
“What’s Hawke gonna get pissed about?” The only appropriate response would be to stare at Hawke who seemingly appeared out of nowhere, she stares back with an eyebrow raised. “Not telling me might piss me off further.”  
  
Fenris and Varric exchange a glance before Fenris gestures to the empty chair near Varric. Frowning, Hawke complies. “I, uh...” Varric clears his throat. “I got a letter from Blondie. He’s been looking into Corypheus.”  
  
“What the hell for?”  
  
“He’s still a Grey Warden whether he fights darkspawn or not. The Calling and by extension, Corypheus, effects him too. I’ve been trying to keep tabs on everyone, keping them informed of The Inquisition and whatnot. I lost touch with him for a while but once he wrote me sometime after Haven, I figured the two things could be connected.”  
  
“What ‘two things?’” Hawke asks.  
  
“Grey Wardens are disappearing all over Thedas but mostly around Orlais.”  
  
“And?”  
  
Varric blinks at Hawke, “and what?”  
  
“And what else?”  
  
“Oh...” Varric rubs the back of his neck, “I _may have_ said we’d help him out?”  
  
Both Hawke and Fenris jump to their feet. “You did _what_!?”  
  
“You didn’t tell me you offered our help without consulting us.”  
  
Taken aback, Hawke turns to Fenris. “You knew about this?”  
  
“Only about the letter.”  
  
They both turn back to Varric. “What the hell, Tethras?”  
  
“I’m afraid I’m gonna have to second that what the hell, Varric.”  
  
Varric sighs. “Do you have any idea how many times we helped out Blondie in the past?”  
  
“Do you have any idea how many times he manipulated us ‘for the good of mages everywhere,’ in the past?”  
  
“I hear you, Hawke, but don’t you think it has to be something crucial for me to even consider hearing him out? Corypheus is a far bigger threat to us than Blondie—”  
  
Hawke hums, “let’s agree to disagree. Corypheus’ only threat is influencing Grey Wardens through reasons we’re not even sure of.”  
  
“We can always ask Hero. _Or_ listen to Blondie’s reasons?”  
  
“I’m assuming he isn’t in a room waiting to pop up so where the hell is he?”  
  
“There’s a place called Crestwood. He’s no stranger to being hunted, so he gathered up a few Grey Wardens who didn’t think he was completely insane and started looking into Corypheus.” Fenris and Hawke exchange an all too knowing glance. “I’ll run this by The Inquisitor, obviously, but I think it’s worth a shot.”  
  
⚙⚙  
  
Hawke’s never been to a “War Room” but even if she had, there probably shouldn’t be so much tension. Everyone introduces themselves but the biggest surprise sans news of Anders, is that templar – Meredith’s right hand – ditched his shiny armor for something slightly less shiny. He’s also looking around avoiding eye contact with her. If what Varric wrote is at least eighty percent true, Cassandra not only abducted Varric but snatched up a slew of templars right from Kirkwall’s Circle and brought them to Haven. Then Skyhold.  
  
Oh, Nightingale is a somewhat familiar face but the redhead’s far more _familiar_ with Isabela. Their conversations were brief and mostly about preventing an Exalted March.  
  
Damn, missing out meeting the not yet Hero Of Ferelden in Lothering is the story of Hawke’s life. Of course, by the time “The Warden” reached Lothering, the place was not only already doomed but the Hawke family were long gone.  
  
“Who is your ‘source,’ Varric?”  
  
“Uh, a friend?” Both Cassandra and Leliana stare at him. “Never mind that, this is something we should look into.”  
  
Cadash shrugs, “sure.” He taps the map with his dagger, “needed to check up on something in the area anyway. Sera said something about marching through Verchiel, which coincidentally is in Crestwood. Two bandits, one dagger.”  
  
“I believe my ‘expertise.’” Hawke air quotes, “is a necessity in this—” Someone— _Fenris—_ pointed clears their throat beside the brunette. “Did I say _I_? The first time? I meant _our_ expertise. No Hawke without Fenris, am I right?”  
  
“And as it’s Varric’s source, he should come too.” Rubbing the back of his neck, Varric nods with a a sigh. “Or not?”  
  
Varric shakes his head, “no, no, no. I’ll go.”  
  
“Inquisitor.” Cadash turns to Cassandra who folds her arms over her chest. “It is baffling how you continue to have the utmost faith in someone who repeatedly lied to not only you but the entire Inquisition. Having said that...” She glares at Varric, “he is clearly hiding something.”  
  
“First of all what you call repeatedly lying I call artistic license; _secondly_ , what I have to tell The Inquisitor doesn’t exactly concern you—”  
  
“Like hell it doesn’t. I’m going to Crestwood as well.”  
  
Varric actually lets out an honest to Paragon audible gulp. Cadash can’t help the hum that escapes his lips. “Well shit, now I’m intrigued.”  
  
“Inquisitor, do we really need so many people on what’s essentially a scouting?”  
  
Cadash holds up a hand and ticks off names with his fingers. “Me, you, Hawke, Fenris, Cassandra. That’s only five.”  
  
Varric glances at Hawke who shakes her head and puts her hands up in surrender. “ _Fine_. I see no reason why Seeker can’t— _or shouldn’t—_ join us.”  
  
“Just say the word and we’ll have Scout Harding heading to Crestwood.” Lelinana says.  
  
“Sure. Do it. _Wait_. Let me talk to her first. We’ll give her a day or two. Everyone do... whatever it is you do to get ready for stuf like this. Uh, dismissed? That sounds professional, right?” Cadash shrugs as he walks backward out of the war room.  
  
⚙⚙  
  
There haven’t been any missions or much of anything since the impromptu albeit strictly necessary and lifesaving move to Skyhold so Harding is bouncing in delight when Cadash tells her about the upcoming scouting to Crestwood.  
  
“Inquisitor.” A guard approaches, “may I present, the arcanist.” She sidesteps revealing a red-haired waving dwarf.  
  
“Hi, I’m Dagna. _Arcanist_ Dagna.” Harding and Cadash exchange a glance. “Ah! Y-You’re him, aren’t you? The Inquisitor? Paragons below, I had no idea you were a dwarf!”  
  
“What is it you said you were? An arcanist? What is that, exactly?”  
  
Dagna grins at them, “it’s probably for the best if I show you... and we should wear eyewear, just in case.”  
  
Cadash grins, “I like her already.”  
  
Cadash hasn’t been to this “undercroft” yet but Harritt said it would do and that’s probably the best praise any place could get from him. Harritt’s already in there working on something. He turns his head and grunts his greeting then pauses mid hammering and blinks at Dagna.  
  
“Hi! I’m Dagna.” The redhead chirps. “Guess we’ll be working together!”  
  
Harritt gives Cadash _a look_. A look he’s all too familiar with; it’s usually from Cassandra or Josephine but it’s still the same look. Damn. He’s gonna have to explain this later. “Right.” Cadash begins, “eye stuff?”  
  
Dagna beams. “Ah, yes.” Harding supplies them with welding masks. “Can I see that dagger of yours?”  
  
Cadash unlatches then protectively cradles all three of his daggers before narrowing his eyes. “Why?”  
  
“To enchant them!” His grip tightens, “ _Inquisitor!_ ”  
  
Harding chuckles, “here. You can enchant my dagger.”  
  
Dagna rubs her hands together, “ _excellent_.”  
  
“How did you... get to do whatever it is you do anyway?”  
  
“I’m sure everyone knows the tale of The Hero Of Ferelden, yes?” Dagna asks as she starts doing something fancy looking with Harding’s dagger.  
  
“Um, yes? A dwarf saved all of Thedas from the blight.” Cadash nods in agreement.  
  
“Well, I met her.” Both Cadash and Harding gasp. “Yup! She even helped me get into Ferelden’s Circle, well after she slew a tower full of abominations.”  
  
“I feel really giddy all of a sudden.” Cadash confesses, “so... you actually met _the_ Paragon Aeducan? I don’t mean the old man paragon, I mean the most recent paragon in dwarven history!?”  
  
“Wait, I mean that is incredibly important but you said she helped you get into a Circle? Like mage’s Circle?” Dagna nods. “How? Wait, _why_?”  
  
“So I can learn about magic and become an arcanist. My father, you know, wanted me to ‘be a proper dwarf’ and all that—”  
  
“Uh, we’re from the surface but I’ve heard stories about what you’re referring to.” Cadash shrugs his reply.  
  
Dagna sighs, “yeah. I’m technically a surface dwarf now too. I mean I’ve been for a while but, _you know_...” She shrugs. “Anyway, she wasn’t a paragon then or even The Hero Of Ferelden. She was an exiled princess turned Grey Warden after another Grey Warden saved her from a death sentence. I heard the stories but didn’t think much of them until I met her.”  
  
“What was she like?” Cadash asks.  
  
“ _Amazing_.” Dagna breathes. “And not just because she offered to help then actually followed through. There was just something about her. I get giddy every time I talk about it. I mean, I know she helped dozens of people—well, an entire country considering—but actually talking to her? Meeting her before she got so famous then having her meet me again after saving us all?”  
  
“Damn, you’re lucky.” Harding nods in agreement.  
  
“Yup! I just wish I knew where she was. It’s been at least a year since we last wrote to each other.” Dagna takes off her welding mask, “and here we are~” Harding holds up her dagger, “enchantment.” Harding and Cadash’s eyes widen. “So, Inquisitor? Want me to enchant yours?”  
  
“Maybe not _these_ but definitely a few others.”  
  
“Tell us more about Paragon Aeducan. I’ll admit I’ve never been truly into Orzammar but I definitely want to know more about The Hero Of Ferelden.”  
  
“Well, I’ve always sorta been into it. All the backstabbing and actual fratricide?”  
  
“You told me that stuff happens all the time in The Carta.”  
  
“Well, _yeah_ , but I’ve never been to Orzammar.” Harding shakes her head.  
  
“Uh, I think The Hero Of Ferelden is the only person who committed fratricide...” Dagna frowns, “twice.”  
  
“I felt the urge to squeal.” Cadash fans himself off.  
  
“Because of fratricide?” Dagna giggles, “you’re weird. You kind of remind me of her.”  
  
Cadash grabs Dagna’s shoulders, “you need to stay forever.” He whispers.  
  
“I’ll, uh, do my best.”  
  
“On that note.” Harding sheaths her newly enchanted dagger, “I’ll take this baby out scouting.”  
  
“I can enchant its match?”  
  
“Sure. Thanks, Dagna.”  
  
Dagna smiles. “It’s what I’m here for...” She eyes Cadash who is still gripping her shoulders, “and to talk about Paragon Aeducan.”  
  
⚙⚙  
  
Cadash manages to coax a story about Paragon Aeducan from Dagna before Harding leaves for her scouting. Not only is their arcanist fucking awesome but she’s a dwarf who trained at Ferelden’s Circle Tower! The last known dwarves to do that were Minderel and Ureldin but that was centuries ago.  
  
“Inquisitor. You should check on your dalish friend.” He eyes Vivienne dubiously, “oh come now, darling. I haven’t broken him.”  
  
“I haven’t seen or heard from you in two days.”  
  
“Training is hard work, Inquisitor. You should know that better than anyone. Speaking of which, I’ve taken the liberty of getting trainers for you.”  
  
“I’m sorry, what? Trainers?”  
  
Vivienne nods. “You are leading us. Plus, you need to be prepped for The Winter Palace. You have trainers for fighting and trainers for ball dancing.” Cadash gapes at her. “No need to thank me all at once, my dear. We need to keep up appearances for your followers.”  
  
Cadash sighs, “yes, of course.” If he didn’t fear and respect this woman so much...  
  
“Glad to hear it. Skyhold is still in its infancy and doesn’t reflect us yet.”  
  
“Let me guess: you have people working on that too.”  
  
“Well, the soldiers can only do so much, my dear.”  
  
“Uh-huh. Let me get out of your way then.” Cadash hastily makes his exit into the building.  
  
“Training starts at daybreak.” Vivienne calls after him.  
  
“Got it!”  
  
When Cadash reaches his room, he sees the door is opened slightly. The only reason he isn’t drawing a weapon is because he’s certain it’s Lavellan bone tired from whatever hellish training Vivienne gave him. Sure enough, Lavellan is face down on Cadash’s fancy bed.  
  
“Hey, Stranger!” His response is a grunt. Grinning, Cadash walks over to the bed then flops onto it. (The soldiers were kind enough to give him a bunch of stools so he can reach things.) “Just saw Vivienne and looks like we’re both getting put through the wringer.”  
  
“Sounds tough.” Cadash’s head snaps up toward the desk. “You know, if this thing were higher I could’ve done my dramatic reveal.”  
  
“Blood of the ancestors, _Lantos_?”  
  
Lantos steps out from behind the desk. “In the flesh, Salroka.” 


End file.
